What She Saw

by Diane Saxon

  Ethel reared her head up, her faded eyes sparking with life. ‘Mr Crawford won’t like that. He won’t want me going off in the ambulance without him, and he won’t want to leave his car behind.’

  ‘Oh, I…’ Alarm filled Sandy’s eyes.

  ‘Ethel, one of my officers will drive Mr Crawford home in his car.’

  A loud snort exploded from Ethel. ‘He won’t let anyone else drive that wreck of a car.’

  Jenna said nothing as she came to her feet to allow Sandy to manoeuvre Ethel onto the bed. The crunch and grind of her own knees made her wonder who was the eldest as Ethel hopped up onto the bed with apparent ease.

  ‘Ethel. Thank you very much for speaking with me. If you don’t mind, I’ll call around tomorrow morning to have another chat.’

  ‘That’s fine, my dear, but don’t come too early. Mr Crawford likes his sleep on a Sunday before we go to church.’

  ‘I’ll bear that in mind.’ Although Jenna knew a sleep-in for a retired farmer would mean he’d be up at seven instead of five.

  Sunday – they were already there, and Jenna would be lucky if she managed to go home and get her head down for a few hours before she needed to get back on it again.

  She waited as Sandy pushed open the door to let her out of the ambulance and glanced over her shoulder as Ethel turned on her side and tucked the blanket under her chin, her weary gaze meeting Jenna’s. ‘I hope those children are okay. I hope they get them out.’

  ‘Me too, Ethel, me too.’

  She knew there was no chance. If they’d managed to get out before the fire took hold, she’d have known, but there was no one.

  As she stepped from the ambulance, Jenna gazed over at the inferno lighting up the sky. From Ethel’s information, Jenna now knew that the family party had been at the house and Gordon Lawrence had been firing his gun just before the fire. The fire crew hadn’t brought anyone out. If the family had been in there, they were already long dead. Her job was to establish whether it was an accident, or a deliberate act.

  10

  Sunday 19 April 0305 hours

  Jenna drew in a breath and looked around to locate Mr Crawford and Mason. As she approached them, Mr Crawford turned, one painful step at a time on legs bowed with age and crippling arthritis.

  ‘Mr Crawford.’ She stepped closer and held up her badge. ‘I’m DS Morgan.’

  ‘’Ow do?’

  She smiled at the twang of old Dawley in his voice. One of the original villages of the new town, it stoically refused to be pulled into modern times. ‘I’m fine, Mr Crawford. I’ve been speaking with your wife.’

  ‘Ah, Ethel. I’ll need to get her ’om, she’s not as young as she were.’

  Jenna’s lips twitched as Mr Crawford shuffled to transfer his weight from one hip to another. ‘That’s fine, Mr Crawford. The paramedics are taking her home now in the ambulance.’

  ‘She day need an ambulance.’ His wrinkled forehead dipped low over intense blue eyes that hadn’t lost any of their colour with age. ‘I’m capable of taking my own wife ’om.’

  He was the type of man, Jenna sensed, that wouldn’t appreciate a young woman reaching out with a comforting touch. Instead, she drew her shoulders back. ‘I’m afraid the paramedics would like to keep an eye on her a little longer. They were concerned about her breathing earlier and her temperature just took a bit of a drop.’

  ‘Aye well, silly owd girl came running out in her nightclothes.’ He indicated with a quick flick of his hands his own attire. Decked out in brown corduroy trousers, boots and a thick jacket over what Jenna assumed would be layers of clothes, perfectly ironed by his wife. With slow, stiff movements, he turned his head and squinted at the ambulance, its blue lights chasing shadows across the deep wrinkles in his face. ‘I’d better follow her ’om, she’ll need me to look after her. Gee ’er a cup of tea. Hers had a bit of a shock, I think. Hers not used to being woken in the dead of night.’

  Without further preamble, he turned to hobble towards his car.

  Worried about his fragility and age, Jenna made a quick decision. ‘Mr Crawford.’ Jenna raised her voice to catch his attention again. ‘I’d like DC Ellis to drive you home if you don’t mind.’

  Mr Crawford continued his uneven gait and flicked his hand in the air to dismiss her. ‘I’ve come in me own car. I can make me own way ’om.’

  ‘It would be better if—’

  ‘If you have anything further to say,’ the old man scuttled fast enough to take Jenna by surprise, his voice fading as he neared his wreck of a car, ‘I suggest you follow in your own car.’ He jerked to a stop and spun around to face her, his neck and shoulders making the turn together in one rigid motion. ‘Unless you need a lift.’

  ‘No, I—’

  Without a pause, he yanked open his car door, slipped inside and fired up an engine that rattled loud enough to be heard above the crackle of the fire. Before Jenna gathered herself, Mr Crawford was off.

  Undecided, Jenna hesitated, torn between her duty to ensure the old man was safe and staying at the scene.

  ‘Bloody hell.’ Jenna scoured the perimeter of the cordon, patting her pockets for her car keys. ‘Is there anyone else to question?’

  ‘No one.’ Mason yawned as he scrubbed a hand over his chin making it rasp against the stubble. ‘I had a quick word with PC Walker. He’s noted the details of any onlookers. There aren’t that many. Most people have probably slept through it. The ones who are here have been questioned, but no one knows anything. Nothing urgent. No eyewitnesses. Any further questions will keep until later this morning.’

  Jenna nodded her agreement.

  Mason jerked upright and shook the tiredness away, ‘Jesus, is that a classic?’

  Jenna scrubbed the flop of hair back from her face. ‘I don’t think it’s considered a classic, not with that much rust on it.’ She really hadn’t a clue.

  ‘Isn’t it the age that defines whether it’s a classic, not necessarily the state it’s in? Someone would do it up, I’m sure.’ His unexpected enthusiasm did nothing to reassure her.

  She took another glance at the rickety old car. ‘Bet my badge it’s not insured or MOT’d.’

  As the Volvo rattled off along the dirt track and then took a sharp left over farmland, Jenna heaved out a long groan.

  ‘Great.’ Decision made, Jenna jerked her head towards the police vehicle. ‘Quick. Jump in.’

  Mason’s wicked chuckle filled the car as Jenna strapped herself in.

  ‘Right, let’s get after Mr Crawford. Make sure he gets home safely.’ She glanced over as the ambulance pulled away behind the ancient Volvo.

  ‘Really, do we need to?’

  ‘He’s a bit unsteady. At this time of night, I couldn’t forgive myself if he didn’t make it home.’ Jenna took one hand off the steering wheel to run it through her hair, almost tempted to tug it out. ‘Please tell me the ambulance isn’t going to follow him, that would mean we have to because, bloody hell, I didn’t get their address.’ She shot Mason a quick glance before concentrating on the two vehicles ahead. ‘Did you?’

  ‘No, Sarge, I assumed you…’

  ‘Shit.’ She blew out a breath ‘Ted Walker will have it.’ She’d bet her life on it.

  As the ambulance continued towards the main road, Jenna contemplated which vehicle to follow. She made a snap decision. ‘I think it’s got to be him, because if we lose him and something happens, how the hell would we know?’

  ‘I agree. Besides, it could be a long way around by road.’

  ‘But legal.’

  ‘I don’t think we’d be doing anything illegal by pursuing him across farmland.’

  ‘Not us, you dopey sod. If we need an excuse, I’ll think of one. But, dear God, if I don’t follow him and he disappears, we’ll have to call out Air Unit One.’

  Mason’s mouth dropped open. ‘You’re kidding me, right?’

  Only half kidding, she veered off the track to follow the dim taillights of the vehicle ahead. A s
light hitch of concern tightening her throat. The last time she’d called out Air Unit One, it had been for the disappearance of her own sister.

  With a light shudder, Jenna pressed her foot to the accelerator to speed up and catch Mr Crawford before he disappeared. Their vehicle bumped and banged over the uneven ground enough to rattle the teeth in her head.

  ‘Maybe his Volvo isn’t so old, it’s just lived a hard life.’ Mason’s voice jiggled unevenly in rhythm with the car movement, little grunts emitting from his lips as he clung on to the grab handle above the door.

  Jenna barked out a laugh. ‘Did you see the registration number? It was made in 1985. 1985! Before I was born!’

  Mason cast her a sly sideways look. ‘Not that long before.’ His teeth clacked together as she hit another pothole. ‘Mind, but it did look rough.’

  Jenna jerked her head in his direction. ‘What are you implying?’ She squinted at him in the pitch black to see if she could detect his sarcasm. The merest twitch of his lips made her think he’d had another poke at their age difference. Only a few months, but he liked to rub it in, have a little dig.

  The breath whooshed from her as she hit a deep rut in the field. Mason’s arm jerked out to slap on the plastic fascia and the loud grunt that accompanied it filled the car.

  She huffed out a breathless laugh. ‘Serves you right.’

  The steering wheel jerked from her hands as they hit another pothole and she raised her foot from the accelerator to allow the car to slow down, comfortable she still had the old Volvo in her sights.

  ‘Call Control and let them know we’ve left the manor house and are… hmm… pursuing Mr Crawford. Obviously, not in so many words.’

  ‘Do we want to inform them yet when we don’t even know where we’re going?’

  ‘Good point. Let’s keep it to ourselves. Of course, I’m probably in the mire anyway because this vehicle is not going to escape unscathed from this.’

  ‘Who would have known the territory would be so rough?’

  Jenna sighed. ‘We should have. One look at Mr Crawford and we should have known.’

  ‘Yeah, feisty little bugger he is. Your typical old Dawley boy.’

  Jenna’s teeth jarred. ‘What did he have to say about the fire?’

  ‘It was short. It was sweet. He didn’t like Gordon Lawrence. Thought he was an arrogant git, but he wouldn’t wish harm on him and hoped the family had gone out for the night. He seriously doubted it.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘He said Ethel couldn’t stop whining about the noise from the party. Loud music. He’s deaf as a post, though, so he heard nothing.’

  ‘Did he mention how he noticed the fire?’

  ‘Yeah, he was fast asleep when Ethel woke him. Says she has a screech like a vixen. Almost gave him a heart attack. She told him the house was on fire and to “get out, get out!” She flung on her housecoat…’ he peered sideways at Jenna ‘…dressing gown, I assume he meant. He got himself dressed. Checked the house over and realised the smoke – which he said he can’t smell since he kept pigs for the past sixty-four years – wasn’t coming from their house. He couldn’t smell it, but he could see it. Jesus, thank God he’s got his eyesight, because all his other senses are fucked.’ Mason’s laughter hiccupped out of him as they hit another pothole. ‘Mrs Crawford panicked and rushed outside. When they saw the fire on the horizon, Mr Crawford called it in. Fire, police, ambulance. Said he hadn’t a clue who needed to know so he’d requested them all.’

  ‘Well, he got it right. They needed everything.’

  Mason shot out a hand to steady himself as Jenna flung the car over a rise, straight into a deep dip. Breathless, he took a moment before he spoke again.

  ‘He was annoyed with himself. He reckoned they’d probably wasted time searching their own property before they realised. When he saw the direction it was coming from, he thought initially it might be a barn fire. They jumped in the car and drove over and then they realised it was the house. They were there before the fire tenders arrived. Just. It had already taken a good hold on the place. Mr Crawford said he didn’t even consider going in, the windows were already blown on the first floor. Ground floor had black smoke pouring out of it. He said if anyone was in there, it was too late.’

  Jenna tightened her fingers on the steering wheel. ‘That poor family.’ Her chest tightened.

  Mason grunted. ‘Poor kids.’

  She blew out a breath, blocked the dark thoughts that could do more harm than good if they were allowed to embed themselves. The self-preservation of the emergency services involved skills to block, laugh and move on. She wasn’t yet ready for the last two, but she could block. For now.

  The high beam from her headlights cut a swathe across the field as they took another rise before it dropped into a deep valley where a long rambling farmhouse made of Wenlock Limestone nestled. Outbuildings, like afterthoughts, scrambled outwards in all directions.

  Ahead of them, the dull grey Volvo edged its way in between rickety old wooden gates and then shuddered to a halt, the whole car rattling as though it were about to shake apart, before it breathed a last breath and came to its final resting place.

  Jenna pulled her vehicle over to park it alongside the dilapidated wall, leaving enough room for the ambulance to pull in as close to the farmhouse as possible.

  Jenna stepped from the car at the same time as Mason. The loud screech of the Volvo door as it opened disturbed the still of the night, interjected by Mr Crawford’s groans of pain as he hoisted himself out of the car and leaned against the open door while he squinted at them.

  ‘We’d better get inside. I need to put the kettle on for Ethel. The owd girl will need a hot-water bottle.’ He looked up, sad regret etched across his face and Jenna followed his gaze up to the orange glow beyond the horizon. ‘It’s a sad night, whichever way you see it.’

  Her chest tightened. Sad indeed. For the loss of a house, a home and very likely a family. The tragedy of it knotted her stomach.

  With a shake of his head, Mr Crawford pushed away from the car door and slammed it shut as he made his way up the broken pathway to the front door of his farmhouse. Without pause, he turned the doorknob and walked straight through the unlocked door.

  Mason rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and sent her a crooked smile. ‘He thinks the world of her.’

  ‘Evidently.’ Her opinion of Mr Crawford had taken an upward turn. ‘I don’t think we need anything further here tonight. Do you?’ At the shake of Mason’s head, Jenna stepped inside the old house. ‘We’ll just make sure the ambulance turns up and then go back.’

  She turned right from the hallway into the kitchen, where old-fashioned lights cast a warm buttery glow. She took a quick look around the place to assess. Hoarders they may be, with piles of magazines and books, but the kitchen was clean. Not so much as a plate on the side. The old brass taps shone as though they’d been buffed to perfection.

  Mr Crawford had his back to her and the sound of water spraying into the kettle filled the room for a long moment. He picked up a dishcloth and, in a completely natural move he’d practised for years, he swiped the drips from the countertop and ran the cloth along the taps before he wrung it out with gnarled old hands and placed it back where he found it.

  Capable, he probably ironed his own shirts. Typical of the old boys from the original villages formed long before the advent of Telford fifty years previously. Well established but still considered a new town.

  Mr Crawford circled around with a stiff-legged motion, a twinge of pain slashing across his wizened features. ‘Can I make you a cuppa?’

  Tempted, Jenna ran her tongue across her teeth while she considered the invitation. ‘No thank you, Mr Crawford, DC Ellis and I are just about to get off. Thank you so much for your assistance. If you think of anything further, please contact either one of us.’ She reached out and placed a card with her contact information on the huge oak dining table, scrubbed to a pale whiteness.


  He glanced at the card but left it where it was and reached instead into a cupboard for fine bone china teacups and a matching teapot. As he selected a canister of tea leaves, his face wrinkled up into a grin. ‘The owd missus likes her tea made the proper way. I wouldn’t want to disappoint her with anything less if hers had a shock. Her wouldn’t like to think of those kids harmed in any way.’ He narrowed his eyes as his gaze landed on hers. ‘He war’nt a nice man, but her wouldn’t wish bad on ’im.’ He turned to stare out of the window at the approach of the ambulance, watched it swing around and reverse up to the gate, blue lights flashing in circles. ‘It’s a tragic thing, but her’ll be fine. Once we know what happened.’ He took a hold of the full kettle and, with a shaky hand, poured the boiling water onto the tea leaves in the teapot to scald them. ‘You’ll let us know, won’t you? When you find out.’

  ‘We will, Mr Crawford. We may need to come and see you and Mrs Crawford again. If that’s okay?’

  ‘Yes, it’s a nasty business. Whatever happened. Nasty.’ He squinted up at her. ‘Ethel heard him shooting his guns again, not long before the fire alarm went off. Did she mention?’

  Jenna inclined her head, interested to hear his viewpoint. ‘She did.’

  The furrows in his brow deepened. ‘I hope he didn’t do anything bad up there. I never did trust him.’

  With a sense of disquiet, Jenna reached out and touched his elbow. Perhaps he was the type to take comfort from a young police officer. ‘We’ll look into it. I promise. All angles. Take care, Mr Crawford. We’ll be in contact.’

  Heading back outside, she stepped into the cool night air and a sky on fire as the paramedics opened the rear doors to the ambulance.

  ‘Ethel,’ Jenna raised her hand to wave goodbye as Ethel sat up and swung her slippered feet onto the ambulance floor. ‘We’re going to get off, but we’ll see you again when we’ve all had a sleep.’

  The lines of strain around Ethel’s mouth deepened. ‘Those poor babies.’